


Her Hardest Hue to Hold

by stc2192



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anxiety, Gen, In this house, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Time Loop, Time Travel Fix-It, but just a heads up, depictions of violence, if you see something that I missed please let me know, more tags to be added later, not too graphic, so enjoy, this is my first fic, we take cannon and beat it with a wrench
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 17:17:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19177852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stc2192/pseuds/stc2192
Summary: "Speaking of movies"- Dally yawned, flipping away his cigarette bud-"I'm walkin' over to the NIghtly Double tomorrow night. Anybody want to-""NO!!"Or, Pony gets a chance to stay gold a little longer, and He's not gonna waste it.





	Her Hardest Hue to Hold

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, and it's horrible, but I couldn't get it out of my head so here we are.
> 
> Also, I own nothing. Everything belongs to S.E. Hinton.

     We reached the vacant lot just as Dally came in, running as hard as he could, from the opposite direction. The wail of a siren grew louder and then a police car pulled up across the street from the lot. Doors slammed as the policemen leaped out. Dally had reached the circle of light under the street lamp, and skidding to a halt, he turned and jerked a black object from his waistband. I remembered his voice: "I've been carryin' a heater. It ain't loaded, but it sure does hold a bluff." It was only yesterday that Dally had told Johnny and me that. But yesterday was years ago. A lifetime ago. Dally raised the gun, and I thought: You blasted fool. They don't know you're only bluffing. And even as the policemen's guns spit fire into the night I knew that was what Dally wanted. He was jerked half around by the impact of the bullets, then slowly crumpled with a look of grim triumph on his face. He was dead before he hit the ground. But I knew that was what he wanted, even as the lot echoed with the cracks of shots, even as I begged silently--- Please, not him... not him and Johnny both ---I knew he would be dead, because Dally Winston wanted to be dead and he always got what he wanted. Nobody would write editorials praising Dally. Two friends of mine had died that night: one a hero, the other a hoodlum. But I remembered Dally pulling Johnny through the window of the burning church; Dally giving us his gun, although it could mean jail for him; Dally risking his life for us, trying to keep Johnny out of trouble. And now he was a dead juvenile delinquent and there wouldn't be any editorials in his favor. Dally didn't die a hero. He died violent and young and desperate, just like we all knew he'd die someday. Just like Tim Shepard and Curly Shepard and the Brumly boys and the other guys we knew would die someday. But Johnny was right. He died gallant. Steve stumbled forward with a sob, but Soda caught him by the shoulders. "Easy, buddy, easy," I heard him say softly, "there's nothing we can do now." Nothing we can do... not for Dally or Johnny or Tim Shepard or any of us... My stomach gave a violent start and turned into a hunk of ice. The world was spinning around me, and blobs of faces and visions of things past were dancing in the red mist that covered the lot. It swirled into a mass of colors and I felt myself swaying on my feet. Someone cried, "Glory, look at the kid!"  
  
And the ground rushed up to meet me very suddenly.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
     When I came too, the first thing I realized was that it was real bright. I put my hand over my eyes, shielding them from the light and trying to get my brain to remember what happened. That was weird. Hadn’t it been night time? And then my stomach dropped. Johnny. Dally. The rumble. Everything came rushing back at once. I wanted to scream but I couldn’t make any noise. My best buddy, dead, and Dally, who was stronger than anyone I knew, had just snapped under the weight of Johnny’s death. How long had I been out?? The second thing I registered was the pain. My chest was sore, the side of my head felt wet and sticky, and it felt like I had a fresh cut on my neck that was bleeding. I felt exactly how I did when….but that’s impossible, right?? That was over a week ago….  
  
  
Had it only been that long? It felt like years since then, so much had happened, too many people now gone. I heard voices and footsteps, but my brain was still dizzy and I couldn’t make any sense of it.  
  
Then someone had me under the armpits and was hauling me to my feet. It was Darry.  
"Are you all right, Ponyboy?”  
He was shaking me, and I got the weirdest sense of deja vu, like this had happened before, but it couldn’t have, could it?  
"I'm okay. Quit shaking me, Darry, I'm okay."  
He stopped instantly. "I'm sorry."  
“S’ okay.”  
“They didn’t hurt you too bad, did they?”  
“What?”  
“Those Socs, they didn’t hurt you too bad, did they?”  
  
Suddenly, that bad deja vu feeling in the pit of my stomach came back, and I saw Sodapop coming around the corner. I was starting to panic a little and had a feeling I knew what was going to happen next. The rest of the gang were running back towards us now. After Soda was Steve, followed by Two-Bit.

“They got away this time, those dirty…” Two-bit went off cheerfully and ok, this definitely was not happening…except followed by Two-Bit were Dally and Johnny.

My eyes widened and it felt like the breath had been knocked out of me. They were supposed to be dead. I saw both of them die. I saw Johnny, my best buddy, die right there in the hospital bed. It had been so unfair and I had been so mad. He had deserved so much better. Where was the justice? And then I had seen Dally die, right there in the middle of the street surrounded by the fuzz. How was this possible?? I swayed, now too dizzy to stand.  
  
“Easy there Ponyboy” Soda said, and caught me with his arms. “They ain’t gonna hurt you no more.”  
  
I didn’t tell Soda that wasn’t the reason I was losing it, but I knew how the conversation was gonna go and I didn’t want to let them know I was starting to freak out. I had to play along. “I know,” I said.  
  
"The kid's okay?" Steve asked.

”I'm okay."  
  
Steve flicked the ashes of his cigarette at me. "What were you doin', walkin' by your lonesome?"  
  
I gave the answer I knew I had already given a week ago. "I was comin' home from the movies. I didn't think..."  
  
While Darry started yelling at me about how I don’t ever think, I let myself panic a little. My breaths started coming in real fast. I couldn’t make sense of what was going on. How this had happened. I needed to think. If Johnny and Dally were still alive, then that means…  
  
"Speakin' of movies"--- Dally yawned, flipping away his cigarette butt--- "I'm walkin' over to the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anybody want to-”

“NO!”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave comments or suggestions! I would love to continue but I'm not sure where to go from here. I want to explore Ponyboy and Johnny's friendship more because Johny is a Good Bro™ and I just love them so much? Hopefully, I'll figure something out. I'm definitely open to suggestions.


End file.
